


Bottles Keep Running Out

by thewinchesterlifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Coda, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, Gen, M/M, pre, season seven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:46:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterlifestyle/pseuds/thewinchesterlifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Leviathan are lose and Dean is trying to drown himself in every bottle he can find. But Cas is still gone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottles Keep Running Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the Leviathan walked Cas's vessel into the water and the Winchesters are trying to hunt them (Dean doesn't know about "Emmanuel" yet). Have it tagged as "Destiel" but this would be "pre destiel".

_What's the matter?  You don't think you deserve to be saved._

He took another drink.  It didn't help.  Didn't bring  _him_  back.  Didn't change anything.  Barely numbed the self-hatred and the crushing pain of loss.

Dean never said anything about it.  Didn't really want to talk about his loss because while both Bobby and Sam cared for Castiel in their own way it paled in comparison to the  _profound bond_  he had with the angel.  The angel that he'd failed to save.  The angel who had saved him time and time again.  Who had died for him.  

**His best friend.**

Now he was alone in the room, Sam was out for something, with bottles everywhere and most empty.  It was hard and horrible and painful because Cas had come back every time before.  Was always there for him.  Fighting with him, protecting him and caring so fucking much that it killed him.  An angel with a huge heart.

If only Dean had noticed.  Had taken the fucking time to  _ask_ , to just open the fuck up for a chick-flick moment, they wouldn't be here.  The Leviathans wouldn't be killing people, he wouldn't be trying to drown himself in bottles that always ran out before he finally stopped breathing and Cas would be alive.  He wouldn't have dissolved in that fucking water.  Wouldn't have been possessed by Leviathans and wiped from the Earth.  Who knows what kind of pain he felt before?  The fear and knowledge of what was to come.

All he wanted to do was tell that stupid nerdy angel that he was forgiven and could he please forgive Dean?  Could he forgive Dean for failing him time and time again?  For not noticing...for not saving him?  For being a waste of faith.

Because Dean couldn't do it.  He would never be able to forgive himself for it.  Every fucking fumble, wrong turn and mistake that angel made was on his shoulders because he wasn't a good friend.  Because he'd failed another who he cared about.  

Castiel may not have been drowning himself in pills and women and alcohol like the future version he'd glimpsed, but the angel had still been drowning.  And Dean had failed to notice.  To save Cas from destruction.

Now there were so many dead.  So much pain and loss and destruction.  Tears burned the backs of his eyes and he cursed himself even as one rolled down his cheek.  And then they kept coming and he was furious with himself and Cas and Sam and Bobby and all the angels because dammit they were supposed to be the good guys.  Why did they all fuck up so horribly?  

Why was everything falling apart?

His grip tightened on the bottle, knuckles white, before his muscles bunched and he threw the bottle with as much force as he could.  It shattered against the wall, glass spraying everywhere, liquid ran down the wall and the silence following rang through the room.  His breathing was heavy and a broken sound tried to escape, but Dean held it back.

He would not break.  He would not allow it because then Castiel was gone and he really was the huge fuck up he knew deep down he was...the second he gave in there would be no denying it.

Eyes narrowing he looked to the ceiling.  "This is your fault!  Why is the weight of the world placed on the shoulders of so few that it fucking crushes them?  Your own son and you let him die!  Over and over again you just keep watching it happen.  The suffering and the pain and loss and corruption that your absence has caused.  He fought for you. Looked for you and believed so fucking much.  What did it get him? Pain and death...confusion and a fucking demon deal." his voice held fury and pain, anger he didn't bother to hide and if his voice cracked with emotion Dean ignored it, "I hope you're happy.  Cas is gone.  The Leviathans are here and we're probably all going to die.  I'll keep fighting because I'll be damned again if I give up.  But this?  This is on us.  You and me.  His death and all the others...it's on us."

Slowly Dean walked over to where the bag sat on the table, he reached in and pulled another bottle out.  Opening the bottle and drinking from it.  Hoping once more to numb the pain and failing again.  No matter how much he drank it was still there.  Still present in his mind and soul.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to fix this and he knew it.  But old habits die hard.

He'd keep fighting.  Keep saving people and watching over Sammy. But Dean was more than sure this fight would kill him and then everything would be right again.  Sam could find someone to love and Bobby wouldn't be so let down by his mistakes.  Dean would keep it in...hide it as best he could and push forward.  But it was there.

_Why do I keep failing everyone I care about?  I never deserved to be saved..._

 


End file.
